


Teraphobia

by witch_brew



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Disability, Multi, NB, Nonbinary, Other, PTSD, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Racism, Reader Has Issues, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is AFAB - Freeform, References to Child Abuse, additional tags will be added as i write, but it won't really come into play too much, enby, except maybe when i get to the sex stuff but idk yet, listen everyone from the pacifist route is gonna be here so, nonbinary reader, past trauma, reader is disabled, reader is enby, references to CSA, references to rape, sans also has issues, theres gonna be timeline shenanigans too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witch_brew/pseuds/witch_brew
Summary: You've moved to Ebott for a fresh start, hoping to escape your past. Unfortunately, you happen to have a deep set, irrational fear of monsters caused by past trauma. You're hoping it won't cause too many issues, and then you bump into two skeletons at the supermarket.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Teraphobia

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I got an idea at work and needed to write some of it down before I slept so here's chapter one of something. So, like, ask me if I need to add any tags but I'm going to avoid being explicit with Reader's trauma. Suffice to say they experienced A Bad Thing for now, and if I get any more specific than their vaguely worded flashbacks I'll adjust the tags and warn in the opening notes. Related trigger warning: There is a somewhat vague flashback with implications of childhood sexual abuse. It's not outright described but it could be triggering so. Anyways, I hope you guys like my Next Longfic Effort.

You take a deep breath, staring down at your white-knuckled grip on your new-to-you kitchen counter in your annoyingly yellow-tinted, freshly rented apartment.

You’d moved here for a fresh start about a week ago, actually, and amazingly enough, you’d managed to remain in voluntary solitary confinement since then.   
  
You weren’t really so much introverted as you were, well, easily overwhelmed. Too much noise, too much light, too many people. It made you shut down. Sensory overload was a common occurrence for most of your life, but as a child, you quickly learned to forcefully internalize your discomfort and pain in an effort to avoid punishment.

Plus… well. You were very close to the aptly named Monster District. Which was named that because it’s where the majority of your new cities monster’s dwelled, and also sat at the base of the mountain they emerged from. 

There was no forced segregation happening, or anything so messed up as that, more that monsters and humans were, even now that several years had passed since the reintroduction of monsterkind, still struggling to adjust to each other. Extremely different cultures lead to confusion at times or even actual offense. In fact, you’d been quite surprised at the general acceptance of monsters. They weren’t outright shunned by any means.    
  
You supposed their young ambassador had something to do with that, but you weren’t sure. Things had certainly been tense at the beginning, but now it was just sort of like they were just… another minority group. Things could be a lot better, but it wasn’t outright war, which you were relieved about despite your issues. Plus, it seemed they had a lot to teach humanity. As they branched out and slowly gained acceptance, humanity also seemed to prosper. For example, you’d read about the amazing environmental improvements headed by the Royal Scientist of the young monster kingdom.    
  
But… what were you thinking about?    
  
Oh! Yeah! You have to go outside today. Fuck. God, you don’t want to do that.    
  
Why? For the same reason you’d remained indoors ever since arriving in Ebbott. You had crippling teraphobia. You were absolutely terrified of monsters. That’s why everything you knew about them had been gained from reading news articles instead of watching on television. You didn’t even know what the monster royals looked like. And until you’d moved here, you’d silently hoped you never would.    
  
You didn’t want to be a racist. Specist? You’d thought they didn’t even exist, and that your silly, debilitating fear would never be an issue anytime other than Halloween. And yet.    
  
You sigh again, glancing at your shopping list, next to your purse, next to your shoes and keys. You’re very forgetful and had organized everything the night before so that you’d remember and would be unable to use the “I forgot” excuse for the third time this week.    
  
You had to get food. And you needed to keep an eye open for potential work too. You did a lot of small gigs with writing in your spare time and dabbled in art commissions, had an online store where you sold homemade jewelry even, but you knew that relying on that sort of thing as sole income was risky business, and despite your disabilities interference with most jobs, you figured you’d have to deal with the discomfort just to make sure you were able to keep living on your own.    
  
You also really needed to get some better lights for your apartment, the current lights were extremely irritating to your eyes, even when you weren’t wearing your glasses. It might actually be worse sans-glasses actually.    
  
You take one more steadying breath, then grab your stuff and head out the door, pulling your hood up over your head with one hand and shoving a shoe on with the other. You almost trip. You are not coordinated enough to do that sort of thing.    
  
When you reach the supermarket, eyes carefully lowered to the ground as you walk slowly from the bus stop to the automatic doors, you’re already tense. You hated taking the bus. You really didn’t like the sensation of strangers brushing against you. Instead of satisfying the gnawing starvation for physical contact that grows every day, it just makes you squeamish and vaguely nauseous. But you couldn’t drive. That was worse.    
  
So you just dealt with it, the same as every other lesser evil.    
  
So, tense and already dreading the general noise and glaring fluorescents that awaited you, you stepped into the supermarket. You soldiered on regardless though, stepping through the doors and into the oddly scented air that all supermarkets seem to have. Like off-brand oxygen, not the name brand stuff you get outdoors.    
  
It was as expected, but also not. The noise wasn’t great, but it was slow at that moment, so not overwhelming instantly. You could deal with it for long enough to get your groceries at least. You’d budgeted to use a rideshare service to get home today so that you wouldn’t have to repeat the bus experience with a load of groceries. You just didn’t have the spoons for that. You slumped in on yourself, trying to disappear as you grabbed a cart and began making your way through the store. You didn’t have a pattern yet, this being your first trip, and you silently began building yourself a mental map so you could plan your route next time. Speed was needed in this sort of situation. You were still saving up for noise-canceling headphones, and earplugs just kind of muffled everything. Plus, you didn’t like not being aware of your surroundings, despite desperately wanting to be unaware of your surroundings. Hypervigilance meet sensory overload. Fight. 

  
You’re making good progress so far, though, and even remember to glance around for help wanted signs. None in this store and you’re silently relieved for that. You aren’t really sure if you could handle being a cashier at a supermarket, but you’d have applied if they’d been hiring.    
  
You paused next to the junk food section, doing a small bit of mental math regarding your budget, before deciding yes, you can buy some random comfort food today.    
  
You’re reaching for some cookies you vaguely remember eating as a small child when you’re startled quite badly by sudden shouting.    
  
“YOU LAZY BONES!!!”    
  
You jump, nearly falling into the shelf, and turn towards the source of the sound as you attempt to steady your breathing.    
  
There, standing at the end of the aisle, are two  _ actual fucking skeleton monsters. _   
  
Your heart jumps into your throat, and you feel the blood drain from your face as your lungs seize and your skin goes clammy. Skeletons. Skeletons are the worst thing you could run into as your first introduction to monsters in person.    
  
Your vision tunnels, and suddenly you’re very small and you’re in bed and someone else is there and you’re staring into the empty eye sockets of a skeleton as s o m e o n e leans over you and-    
  
“HUMAN? ARE YOU OKAY?”   
  
You’re yanked back into reality with a jolt, and stare up at the approaching skeleton- the taller one in the weird outfit- with wide eyes that are growing wider. You’ve abruptly gone nonverbal and are gaping up at him in absolute terror. You even take a step back.   
  
He pauses, glancing back, and you realize the shorter (but still taller than you) skeleton has a hand on the tall one’s elbow. The short one is staring at you, a fixed grin on his face, but you don’t think the look he’s giving you is a friendly one. Not that you’re actually any good at reading facial cues, even on humans. But something seems tense about the way he’s looking at you, empty eye sockets focused on your fear-stricken face.    
  
“got an issue, bud?” He asks, voice a low rumble. Also tense sounding. Oh no you’re fucking up so hard right now but you cannot calm down.    
  
You try to remember the very little sign language you’ve taught yourself using youtube, but realize you don’t really have anything useful there. You can’t communicate yet, just simple stuff like your name, thank you, yes and no. Easy stuff.    
  
You look between the two of them quickly, feeling yourself begin to sweat. God, how do you explain it’s not personal? Does it even matter that it’s not? Would it to you, if you traded places?    
  
Suddenly, a loud announcement comes over the loudspeakers, and you flinch violently, lifting your hands to clasp at your ears. You think someone left their car parked in the fire lane. But that was one too many things happening, and now you can’t process anything.    
  
The tall skeleton says something, but since he doesn’t exactly have lips you have difficulty discerning what it is, and you hear a deep murmur in reply, but the shorter one doesn’t even open his mouth when he speaks so that’s hopeless. All the sounds mix together at this point and you let out a frustrated sound. You look down at your groceries, lip trembling, and end up just leaving your cart right there in the aisle as you book it to the family bathroom to hide until you can calm down and leave.    
  
When you finally emerge sometime later, your grocery cart is at the customer service desk waiting for you, the cookies you’d never put in the basket sitting on top of your other groceries. The monsters are nowhere to be seen, and you silently pay and leave without making eye contact with anyone else.    
  
You probably won’t be leaving the house again for… well… a while. 


End file.
